The morning sun spilled through the bustling streets of the Underworld's capital, casting a golden glow over the market square. Merchants hawked their wares, children darted between stalls, and the scent of fresh bread mingled with the crisp air. At a small café, an elderly devil named Marcellus unfolded his daily newspaper, the ink still fresh and smudging his fingertips.
He sipped his tea, eyes scanning the front page. There, beneath the bold headline—"Bael Prodigy Captivates the Underworld"—was a striking photograph: a young boy with silvery-black hair and deep violet eyes, standing tall in the dueling yard, wooden sword in hand, a gentle smile on his lips.
Marcellus whistled softly. "What a fine young man," he murmured, nudging his companion. "Look at this—Kiyoshi Bael. They say he's the future of our kind."
His companion leaned in, reading aloud from the article:
"At just eight years old, Kiyoshi Bael has become the talk of noble society. His recent feats in both magic and martial training have left even the most seasoned tutors in awe. Witnesses describe his demeanor as 'humble yet commanding,' and his magical prowess as 'unlike anything seen in generations.'
The Bael estate has become a hub of activity, with envoys from every major clan seeking an audience. Songs are sung in his honor, and artists vie for the chance to capture his likeness. Yet, those close to the young prodigy insist that he remains grounded, guided by the wisdom of his family and the kindness of his heart."
Marcellus shook his head in wonder. "If only more of our youth were like him. The world might be a gentler place."
All across the Underworld, similar scenes played out—nobles and commoners alike discussing the Bael heir's exploits, his image gracing not just newspapers, but posters, paintings, and even enchanted mirrors that replayed his most dazzling moments.
The Bael Estate: A Whirlwind of Attention
Within the estate itself, the atmosphere was electric. Servants bustled through the halls, humming the latest tune inspired by Kiyoshi's victories. In the grand foyer, a new portrait had been hung—Kiyoshi, captured mid-duel, his eyes alight with focus and determination.
Every morning, the gardens filled with young heirs and heiresses from visiting clans, their laughter and chatter a constant backdrop. Some brought tokens—handwritten notes sealed with wax, enchanted flowers that glowed softly in his presence, or delicate charms meant to bring luck or catch his attention.
Kiyoshi accepted these gestures with humility, his gentle smile only fueling the rumors that swirled around him. The older nobles whispered about his beauty and talent, while the younger ones idolized him, their eyes shining with hope and longing. Even the estate's staff, once cautious in his presence, now greeted him with warmth, their pride in the young master evident in every gesture.
But not all attention was welcome. With fame came envy. Some heirs, threatened by Kiyoshi's sudden rise, began to whisper behind his back. They questioned his motives, his lineage, even the authenticity of his power. A few went so far as to challenge him—sometimes in the dueling yard, sometimes with biting words in the corridors.
The Duel of Jealousy
One afternoon, as the sun cast long shadows across the training grounds, Kiyoshi found himself facing a challenger—a brash young noble from the Astaroth clan, his eyes burning with resentment.
"You think you're better than us?" the boy sneered, circling Kiyoshi with his practice sword. "Let's see if you can back up the stories."
A crowd gathered, the air thick with anticipation. Kiyoshi met the challenge with the same quiet confidence he had learned to cultivate. He bowed respectfully, then took his stance.
The duel began with a flurry of strikes. The Astaroth heir attacked with reckless speed, but Kiyoshi's movements were calm and precise. He parried each blow, never overextending, his eyes never leaving his opponent's. When the boy tried to feint, Kiyoshi sidestepped, using his spatial magic to subtly shift the ground beneath them, causing the challenger to stumble.
With a swift, controlled motion, Kiyoshi disarmed the boy, sending his sword clattering to the ground. He offered a hand to help him up, his voice gentle. "You fought well. Next time, trust your instincts."
The crowd erupted in applause, and even the defeated heir managed a grudging nod of respect. Kiyoshi's reputation only grew, but so did the complexity of his world.
The Weight of Admiration
As the days passed, Kiyoshi found himself surrounded by admirers. Young devils crowded around him in the rose garden, arms full of gifts and letters.
"Kiyoshi, will you teach us that spell you used in the lesson?" one asked, eyes wide with admiration.
"Can you show us how to move like you do in the training yard?" another chimed in.
Kiyoshi laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Of course. But remember, it's not just about power or speed. It's about understanding yourself—and helping others."
He spent the afternoon guiding them, his patience and kindness leaving a lasting impression. He corrected stances, offered encouragement, and shared stories of his own mistakes and lessons learned. As the sun set, the group dispersed, their spirits lifted by his encouragement.
Yet, when the crowds faded and the halls grew quiet, Kiyoshi sometimes felt the weight of expectation pressing down on him. He wondered if anyone truly saw the boy behind the legend.
Wisdom and Warning
That evening, Venelana found Kiyoshi in the library, surrounded by unopened letters and gifts. The golden light of dusk filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor.
"You're handling this well," she said, her tone both proud and cautious. "But be careful, Kiyoshi. Fame is a double-edged sword. It can inspire, but it can also breed jealousy and danger."
He looked up, thoughtful. "I never wanted all this attention. I just wanted to do my best."
Venelana smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. "That's why they admire you. But remember—true strength is not just in power or popularity, but in staying true to yourself, no matter what others say."
Kiyoshi nodded, her words settling in his heart. He knew the path ahead would not be easy, but he was determined to walk it with humility and courage.
A Promise Beneath the Stars
As night fell over the Bael estate, Kiyoshi gazed out at the moonlit gardens, the echoes of laughter and song drifting on the breeze. He understood now that his journey was no longer just his own. He had become a symbol—of hope, of possibility, and of the burdens that came with greatness.
And as the stars shimmered above, Kiyoshi made a silent promise: to remain kind, to remain humble, and to use his gifts not for glory, but for the good of all.